Right there, in the center of the bridge, three prisoners stood up on a scaffold, nooses around their necks, blindfolded, barely clothed, and still alive. An executioner stood behind them, wearing a black hood, slits for his eyes.
"The next hanging is at one o’clock!” he screamed out. A thick and gathering crowd huddled around the scaffold, apparently waiting.
"What did they do?" Caitlin asked one of the crowd members.
"They were caught stealing, Miss," he said, not even bothering to look her way.
“One was caught slandering the Queen!” an old lady added.
Caleb led her away from the gruesome sight.
“Watching executions seems to be a daily sport around here," Caleb commented.
“It's cruel," Caitlin said. She marveled at how different this society was from the modern day, at how much tolerance it had for cruelty and violence. And this was London, one of the most civilized places of 1599. She could hardly imagine what the world was like outside of a civilized city like this.
It amazed her how much society, and its rules, had changed.
They finally finished crossing the bridge, and as they stood at its base, on the other side, Caitlin turned to Caleb. She looked at her ring, and read aloud again: Across the Bridge, Beyond the Bear,
With the Winds or the sun, we bypass London.
"Well, if we’re following this correctly, we’ve just ‘crossed the bridge.’ Next would be ‘Beyond the Bear.’” Caitlin looked at him. “What could that mean?"
“I wish I knew," he said.
"I feel as if my father is close," Caitlin said.
She closed her eyes, and willed a clue to come along.
Just then, a young boy, carrying huge pile of pamphlets, hurried past them, shouting as he went.
"BEAR BAITING! Five pence! This way! BEAR BAITING! Five pence! This way!” He reached out and shoved a flyer into Caitlin's hand. She looked down, and saw, in huge letters, the words “Bear Baiting,” with a crude picture of a stadium.
She looked at Caleb, and he looked at her at the same time. They both watched the boy as he began to disappear down the road.
“Bear baiting?" Caitlin asked. “What's that?”
“I remember now,” Caitlin said. “It was the big sport of the time. They would put a bear in a circle, and tie him to a stake, and bait him with wild dogs. They take bets on who wins: the bear or the dogs.”
"That's sick," Caitlin said.
"The riddle,” he said. “‘Across the bridge, and Beyond the Bear. Do you think that could be it?” As one, they both turned and followed the boy, now off in the distance, still shouting.
They made a right at the base of the bridge and walked along the river, now on the other side of the Thames, heading down a street named "Clink Street." This side of the river, Caitlin noticed, was very different from the other. It was less built up, less populated. The houses were also lower here, more crude, this side of the river more neglected. There were certainly fewer shops, and thinner crowds.
They soon came upon a huge structure, and Caitlin could tell, from the bars on the window and the guards standing outside, it was a prison.
Clink Street, Caitlin thought. Aptly named.
It was a huge, sprawling building, and as they passed, Caitlin saw hands and faces sticking out of the bars, watching her as she went. Hundreds of prisoners were crowded in there, leering out at her, yelling crude things as they passed.
Ruth growled back, and Caleb came closer.
They walked further, passing a street with a sign that read “Dead Man's Place.” She looked to her right and saw another scaffold, with another execution being prepared. A prisoner, shaking, stood on a platform, blindfolded, a noose around his neck.
Caitlin was so distracted, she almost lost sight of the boy, as she felt Caleb grab her hand and guide her further down Clink Street.
As they continued, Caitlin suddenly heard a distant shout and then a roar. She saw the boy, in the distance, turn the corner, and heard another shout rise up. She then was surprised to feel the earth shake beneath her. She hadn't felt anything like that since the Roman Colosseum. She realized that there must be a huge stadium of some sort just around the bend.
As they turned the corner, she was astonished by the sight before her. It was a huge, circular structure, looking like a miniature Colosseum. It was built several stories high, and closed off from view, but in each direction there were arched doors leading into it. She could hear the shouts, louder now, clearly coming from behind its walls.
Before the building milled hundreds of people, some of the most seedy people she had ever laid eyes upon. Some were barely dressed, many had huge bellies sticking out, unshaved and unbathed.
Wild dogs roamed amidst them, and Ruth growled, the hairs on her back standing up, clearly on edge.
Vendors pushed carts in the mud, many selling pints of gin. From the looks of the crowd, it seemed most people partook. The crowd jostled each other roughly, and most of them looked drunk. Another roar rose up, and Caitlin looked up and saw the sign hanging over the stadium:
“Bear Baiting.”
She felt sick to her stomach. Was this society really so cruel?
The small stadium seemed to be part of a complex. There, in the distance, sat another small stadium, with a huge sign which read “Bull Baiting.” And there, off to the side, set apart from these two, was another large circular structure—although this one looked different from the others, classier.
"Come see the new Will Shakespeare play in the new Globe Theatre!" yelled out a passing boy, holding a stack of pamphlets. He walked right up to Caitlin, and shoved a pamphlet into her hands.
She looked down and it read: “the new play by William Shakespeare: The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.”
"Will you come, Miss?" the boy asked. "It's his new play, and it's going to be performed for the first time in this brand-new theater: the Globe.”
Caitlin looked down at the pamphlet, feeling a rush of excitement. Could this be real? Was this really happening?
“Where is it?" she asked.
The boy chuckled. He turned and pointed. "Why, it's right over there, Miss.” Caitlin looked to where he was pointing, and saw a circular structure in the distance, with white stucco walls and a Tudor wooden trim. The Globe. Shakespeare's Globe. It was incredible. She was really here.
In front of it, thousands of people were milling about, entering from all directions. And the crowd looked just as rough as the crowd entering the bullbaiting and bearbaiting. That surprised her.